As always, I'll get you the first time around
by startwriting
Summary: ' As always, I'll get you the first time around ... ' Where did that sentence really come from, and what made it so special that P and D exchanged a certain look after he'd spoken these words ? Some Missing Moments of TCOT Lethal Lesson. Part three posted, 22/10.
1. Prologue

We all love to think about the** first** time they kissed, and made love, but … what about the **second** time ? And what has that got to do with the famous ending scene of _TCOT Lethal Lesson? ( ' As always, I'll get you the first time around … ' )_

Since there are many brilliant P/D scenes in this movie, I took a few moments out of it and combined them with really _all types of cliches_ one could possibly gather, a flash back about the **second** time included.

Short chapters, and just a few.

No need to say it's good to have seen _The Case of the Lethal Lesson_ before this one. Spoilers, etc.

_**Prologue**_

It's dark, it's late. He holds the phone to his ear with his left hand, grunts. Ticks against the back of the receiver with his ring. The fingers of his other hand tap on the desk in an unstable rhythm, that's getting louder every second. He has been waiting for ten long minutes to have her on the phone now.

He's annoyed.

The damn cruise ship can't be that big. Why can't she be found ? What is she doing? Where is she? Who's she with?

These questions are equally important as one of the questions he's going to ask her, but already knows the answer to himself. He knows he's going to represent poor, afraid, innocent Ken Malansky. He's known that since he set foot in the holding room.

But he needs to hear her say it. As if it's not true if she hasn't said it yet.

Now, where the hell is she?

" Mr. Mason ? " _Finally._

" Yes. "

" We found Miss Street, Sir. "

" Good. Now, put her through ... "

" Yes, Sir. Right away, Sir. One moment, please, Sir. "

" Yes. "

" I'm sorry it took us so very long, Sir … "

" My dear man. Put. Her. Through. "

" Sir … "

" Now! "

" Yes, Sir. "

" Thank you … "

" Hello ? " _Liquefying_, that's the right word to describe her voice with. He licks his lips, is unaware of it.

" … "

" Hello ? "

" Della ? "

" Mmm-mmm. It's me. "

" Darling. "

" Mmm-mmm. "

" It's good to hear you. "

" It's good to hear you too. "

" … "

" Perry ? "

" I'm just enjoying this, hearing your voice. "

" Uh … "

" I am, you know. Makes me feel young and in love."

" Oh, 'young' and 'in love', hmmm? Are you sure the right term for this state of mind shouldn't be 'possessive' or 'suspicious' ? The officer told me it was an emergency, and that you had to speak to me right away. But uhm … this doesn't sound very urgent to me."

" Missing you this bad _is _an emergency, Della. "

" Well, then it's good I only went around the block just one time, and got here to answer your call quickly, hmmm ? "

His body reacts to these words instantly. _Della Street, you vicious little … _

" I suppose. "

" Uh-uh. So, do you want me to tell you what I'm wearing ? You used to be very curious about my attire when I was away from you and out of town back in the old days … You always wanted to know where I was exactly, who I was with, why I couldn't be found … And, as I recall, you always wanted to know if someone was courting me … and if he, or she, was succesful. "

" I do want to know. I still do. "

He sighs.

" Della … "

" What is it, Perry? "

" I miss you. "

" I miss you too, baby. "

" I need you here. "

" Perry … "

" I want you in my arms … "

" That could be nice. "

" And I also have a more trivial reason to have you with me, I'm afraid … "

" Oh, dear. Do I want to know ? "

" Frank Wellman Jr. was murdered. "

" Yes, so I heard. He was one your students, wasn't he? "

" Yes. Now one of the other students from my class has been arrested for the murder. "

" Ah. "

" His name is Ken Malansky and he's asked me to represent him."

" And ? "

" I'm not sure I should do it. "

" Well, Perry, is he innocent ? "

" Yes. "

" So, what's the problem ? Why don't you just represent him ? "

" I'm not sure if it's the right thing to do, because … "

" … Mr. Wellman. "

" Yes. His father. You know we went to law school together. He's my friend. "

" So, he should know that every defendant comes into court presumed innocent. And he should be glad that Malansky's not going to be convicted, _because_ he's not guilty. "

" Yeah, I suppose. "

" So? "

" Well … "

" Well, Perry, you'd better take this Malansky's case. "

" I know. It's the best thing to do, right?

" Yes. "

" Will you be coming back ? "

" Do you want me to ? "

" Yes. Yes, I do. Of course I do. But you were so looking forward to this cruise … if you don't want to … "

" Are you still at the Hyatt Regency ? "

" Yes. "

" All right. I'll be with you … the day after tomorrow. "

" The day _after tomorrow_ ? "

" Well, we're not even close to shore right now, and the first opportunity to get off this ship is tomorrow afternoon, and then I have to arrange a flight, and, well, it's going to take time. "

" I suppose, yes. "

" I'll see you soon, Perry. I'll go around the block only one time, dear. "

" Yes, yes … "

" I'm sorry. I shouldn't be teasing you. "

" I love you, baby. "

" I love you too. Bye, dear. "

" Goodnight, Della. "

" Goodnight. "

The receiver lands in its cradle, and he watches his hand.

He swears.

The day after tomorrow. That's too long.

He waits a few minutes, and then makes another phonecall.

_**- TBC - **_


	2. Chapter 1 - (Not) on the desk

_(Sorry it took me so long, Chelsea 229 ... )_

_**1st chapter : (Not) on the desk**_

_[ The scene in italics is taken directly from TCOT Lethal Lesson ] _

_Della Street walks into the suite, despite the possible limitations of her impossible high heels stepping elegantly around the bell boy, who's carrying her luggage. Entering the suite, she picks up a small envelope that sits on a large bouquet of red roses and baby's breath. _

_The voice coming from the other room has the sonorous low vibrating tones she's missed more than she'll ever admit to its owner, and she can't help herself but smile as it echoes the words she's been reading on the litte card. " Tasteful … very elegant … understated … yet, beautiful. " _

_" The roses are absolutely gorgeous … thank you … " _

_" I was describing _**you**_ … " He stands still in front of her, carefully holding a stack of documents in front of his massive body. She knows he does that when he needs to stop himself from taking her in his arms too quickly, when he wants to keep a formal distance, because of public decorum or whatever other excuse he can make up. " The roses are the least I could do for cutting your trip short … " _

_" Oh, the cruise. Hmmm - mmm. Yeeees, starry nights, tropical skies, gourmet food, and the best big band since the immortal Glenn Miller. " _

_Liquefying _**is**_ exactly the right word for this voice. He can easily melt into her mouth right now, but he knows he'd miss the look in her bright eyes, so he stops himself from concentrating too hard on her lips, and enjoys her entire presence, he listens and he watches. _

_She looks away, and then looks back at him again, playfully. " After four days I was so bored I could've jumped ship, even without your call. " _

_Her right hand lands on his chest, just above his heart. Its rhythm has already adjusted to her pace when she came in. _

_" I'm more than appreciative … " _ _He feels an emotion he isn't prepared for. It travels fast, downwards, upwards, radiates through him at lightning speed and makes him feel warm in a way he hasn't felt for a few days. _

_Not aroused. Warm. _

_" Mmmm … " Her beautiful eyes sparkle at him. " How are ya ? " She takes her gloves off fast, roughly, unelegantly. It's a manner in which he'd never do that if she'd give him the chance to divest her of them. He'd do that tentatively slowly, making sure she'd feel every move of his fingers, and the leather caressing the sensitive skin of her competent hands. _

_His eyes travel over her now, are gluing to her blouse, a shining, soft, blue silk that is cherishing and representing the woman he has been missing for the past few days. Of course, she can be without him, of course she needs time and space on her own, but not too much and not for too long. He loves her. He's a jealous, possessive fool for her, and he's ashamed of it at times, knows it's ridiculous, but it's the truth of the matter. _

_Della Street is the reason he _**is**. _She's the center of his conscious. Not of his consciousness, but of his conscious. He's a numb, functioning body without her, his energy considerably diminishing with every mile she's moving away from him. _

_Her bright, smiling eyes seem to notice his contemplation, as she continues, more soft. " And … uhm … how's poor Mr. Wellman? "_

_" Oh, Frank's taking … " he stops and swallows " … taking it very hard." _

_" Uh. " She nods, understands it. _

_" His boy …" _

_" Mmm-mmm. "_

_" … was his whole life. " He walks around his desk and pivots to literally turn the conversation into another direction. His tone of voice changes. " Della, I want you to look into Frank Junior's past. See who else might have had a motive. "_

_" Any idea where to start ? " She sounds equally businesslike, adjusting to his ways without even noticing it. _

_" Two days before the murder, he alledgedly tried to rape Ken Malansky's girlfriend. " _

_" Alledgedly? " _

_" Her name is Kimberly. Kimberly Mc Donald, she's also a law student. Same class as Frank Jr. I want you to talk to Kimberly. " _

_" Right. " She tilts her head. " Perry, how does Frank Wellman feel about this, I mean your representing Ken Malansky ? " _

_" He doesn't know yet. " _

_" Oh. " _

_Perry nods shortly. " I'm going to need all the background you can get me on the students in my class. "_

_" Give me ten minutes, I'll be right on it. " She takes off her coat. _

_He opens the door to the suite to walk out together with the bell boy, but he seemingly changes his mind, and turns in the doorway. " I want you to rent a car, and meet me at the court house. Ken's being arraigned this afternoon. " _

_Rolling her eyes, she puts her coat back on. _

_She sighs. " Anything else? " _

_" Why, yes. There's a list on the desk. " He closes the door behind him. _

_Does he ? _

####

Walking around the desk, she picks up the list he referred to and starts reading through it diagonally, quickly. Names and addresses of a few of the possible witnesses, other possible perpetrators, and some motives for the murder are summed up. She has to squeeze her eyes a little to be able to read the scribbles. His hand writing is getting worse by the day.

Yet the words on the little card were very clear. He's obviously taken his time to write the card.

She scans the tasks quickly to decide where to start, when suddenly, one particular line catches her eye.

_Stay where you are, I'll be back in five seconds_

She swallows a chuckle. _Five seconds._ She pretends to be reading still, as she hears the door to the suite open and close again.

Five seconds indeed.

" Bell boy gone? " She purses her lips, looking from over her shoulder, glancing at the larger than life man that stands there watching her silently.

" Yes. " It's a soft confirmation. He leans against the door behind him, eyeing her with the big blue smiling eyes that were smoldering before, while taking in the shy smile she's given him when she came in and first saw the roses.

Isn't that just a few minutes ago ?

He waits. He doesn't have to wait for very long.

" Tell me … Perry Mason … " There it is.

She places the list with tasks down on the desk, crosses her arms in front of her and tips her chin. " … where am I going to kick you first ? "

He just smirks.

" A _helicopter_, Perry Mason ? " She narrows her eyes. " I mean, you sent _a helicopter_ to pick me up from that cruise ship, really? What were you thinking? " She tightens her arms around her. " You know I hate flying, especially in a helicopter … And apart from that, what do you think happened on the ship, when that helicopter landed on the front deck, and I had to get in, with all my suit cases? Do you have any idea how many people came to watch that piece of theatre ? "

" I'm sorry. "

" And it ruined my hair. "

He just keeps on smirking, tries to straighten his face, apologetically, but he fails miserably. " I'm sorry, baby. I just thought that you wouldn't mind to be here sooner. "

" Twenty hours, Perry. It would have taken me just twenty hours to get here on my own. And you sent a helicopter … You couldn't wait a few hours longer ? "

" No. " It's barely audible.

" And how did you arrange a helicopter ? "

" Lieutenant Colonel Kevin Parks was nice enough to help me out. I phoned him right after I phoned you last night. "

" Ah. " She nods, remembers Kevin Parks' case.

" He owed me one. "

" I think he still ows you several for acquitting him … "

" Well, this was one of his favours to me. " He brushes the carpet with his right foot. " Did you count the roses yet? "

" No … " She looks at him, quizzically.

" Seventeen. " He waits for her reaction, and walks towards her slowly.

" Seventeen? "

_Seventeen._

Her ungloved hands are folding as she watches him from under her lashes. He takes her in. There's more than just electricity sparkling here and now, underneath the sensitized skin of two distinguished, dressed to the nines partners that have known and loved each other for what seems a life time.

" Yes, seventeen, Della … One for every mile you had to travel by helicopter. "

She nods. That number, seventeen, still causes more than sensible stirrings, even now. It's impossible to ignore this. She didn't even know he knows. But she knows now.

He rounds the desk and reaches for her shoulders. " I'm sorry, baby. I just needed you here sooner. I couldn't wait. " He whispers, taking of her heavy, grey top coat, to deposit it gently over the chair behind his desk. " And the moment you walked in here, I knew I made the right decision to have you here before you could have managed to be here yourself. "

She reaches out for his face and strokes his beard with both hands. Looking up at him, she takes in all the facets of this man, that are so very familiar to her, it could make her stop breathing. It doesn't. It only stops time, shortly.

" I've missed you like a mad man. " He nuzzles his face into her left hand, and takes her right hand in his left to kiss it.

" Perry, I've only been away for a week. Not even a week. "

" I just don't do very well without you … " He lets go of her hand, drops his own, and fondles her waist before his fingers crawl towards the small of her back, tickling her, arousing her to an extend she'd never tell him about. Not with words anyway.

" I love you, baby. " He presses his lips to her forehead.

" Oh, Perry, I love you too. "

He tilts his head, tilts hers and does the inevitable. He kisses her shortly, once, twice, and then sways from left to right and back, opens her lips and tastes her, unable to stop moaning, unable to stop his hands from wandering over all of her.

It isn't until he lets go of her lips, that she starts to think about his earlier words.

" What about the rental car ? " She queries, not willing to think about a car really, his next kiss on her cheek and the moist trail his open lips make towards her hairline, just above her ear, distracting her and leading her into another place and another time.

" It can wait. " He breathes into her ear. " It has to wait. "

She agrees, all of her agrees, but she whispers anyway." And, you were on your way to class. You don't want to be late. "

" I won't be late. " He smiles against her cheek. " I don't have to be there for another hour, and Ken Malansky's arraignement is right after that. We have all the time in the world to make ourselves presentable. "

" Presentable ? " She laughs. " Perry … _oh_ …" He choses that moment to bend down and kiss her neck just above the collar of her blue blouse, breathing heavily and hot against her skin, and the only thing she can do is grab the lapels of his jacket to pull his grand torso against her. And have more.

Have much more while she keeps herself from falling, as her legs refuse duty and she melts into his mouth. Holding her tight against him, he pushes her backwards, until the back of her thighs touch the edge of the desk, a sensation that shoots through her as both familiar and wrong.

But the movements become urgent, it's bad, it's necessary, it needs to be done now, her arms snake around his neck as his hands roam downwards over her thighs, her dark stockings conducting his fingers. He leans forward, one hand on the desk, one hand wrinkling up her long skirt, disappearing underneath it to pull her leg up, around his thigh.

" Oh. " The buttons of the blouse don't resist the pressure of his grazing mouth, as they just open, one by one. She holds his face, firmly presses it against her, reveling in the feel of the tickling beard against her sensitive skin, and he eats her, enjoys it, loses track of the other affairs of this day.

She moans.

Awareness strikes.

" No. " She pushes against his chest. " We … no … not here, not on the desk. " She laughs softly, places one finger on his lips. " We promised each other a long time ago to never do this on a desk or … whatever office furniture … remember … ? " She smiles at him and wraps her arms around his neck to push herself up with him. " No matter the urgency … " Pulling his face down to hers, she opens her lips to make room for a scandalous kiss, that stands in no proportion at all to the words she's just uttered.

" Your sending me somewhat ambivalent signals, baby. " His large rugged hands roam over her back, her waist, her belly, and upwards, quickly squeezing the thin skin just underneath her bossom. He reaches for her face, and holds her cheeks.

" That's probably because I missed you too." She's panting now too, elegantly, shuddering softly when exhaling, but the pulsating energy is there, and they're nearing a point of utter necessity again and she feels it too.

" Perry ... "

" Baby ? "

" The bedroom … A bed … "

" I know. "

" How much time do we have? " She asks, looking at his hands as he takes off her deep blue jacket.

" How much time do you want, baby ? "

" That's not the question … the question is, how long do we need ? "

" Relatively short, this time. " His eyes darken dangerously. " But we do have … " he looks at his watch and takes it off his wrist to throw it on the desk, next to the list of her tasks " … about half an hour … "

He's concentrating as his fingers walk down over her skirt, wrinkling it up again while he seeks bare, smooth skin.

" Half an hour … " She knows she has to act now, wiggles her hips to shake his hands off, and she bites her lower lip, as she grabs his tie and pulls at it, walking backwards. " Should be enough … to show me how uhm … _appreciative_ you are exactly … "

" You little … " One arm goes around her to open the door behind her, but he waits, presses her against the door to feel her, groans.

Her hand reaches behind her and she opens the door.

He watches the king sized bed, and then looks back into the glooming seductive eyes of the lady that is going to join him there in the most glorious ways they both know.

Time is momentarily not the issue here.

She is.

There's enough light, enough energy to fill the space. Enough urge to be fast. Fast and thorough.

The dimples are deep, he breathes anticipating breaths.

He uses his big body to push her into the room, and holding her to him, he leans forward slowly, over her on the way to the bed.

He smirks and kisses her while they fall down.

_**- TBC - **_


	3. Chapter 2 - (Not) on the desk 2

_This one's for Jlk9506 - to brighten up her day._

_Thanks, thanks to my beta OldEnglishD, for allowing me to "steam up her glasses" in a way that even her cats couldn't take it. _

So, what about that second time ?

**2nd chapter: (Not) on the desk 2 **

_(2,5 times 17 years = 42,5 years before )_

_1947_

" What is it, Della ? "

She hands him the document that contains a neatly typed list of questions they need for a deposition the next morning. He examines her eyes with his own, and tries desperately to ignore the challenging edge of her glare and the way she fingers the curls at the nape of her neck.

The shirt dress functions as a cover, of course, without a doubt keeping her warm enough, but does nothing to hide her body from his very tempted and tested recollecting mind. The extravagancy of not only knowing what is underneath her skin and what makes her tick, but also, knowing now, after all this time, what's underneath her clothes exactly, is a joy he can't take his mind off easily. And this new sensation is signifying more and more profoundly as time strides along. It has only been a few days since he literally physically proved the deep love he's felt for her for months, and it's going to be another few days before he can do it again. He simply has to wait until the weekend.

They have set rules about separating work from pleasure, and he wants to live by them.

Because this time, unlike any other time, the desire to make love to a woman originates from his heart, not his groin. Carefulness is bound here, now.

" Perry, I'm sorry, but you're going to have to read this and tell me if it's all right. I don't know what's wrong with me. I just can't seem to formulate properly. "

" These are the questions for tomorrow's deposition ? " He frowns at the paper in his hand.

" Yes. "

" But I just dictated them, and you wrote them down in shorthand. How come you can't … "

" I know. " She interrupts, and sighs. "I should be able to reproduce the questions, but I seem to have problems concentrating. "

" Oh. So you can't concentrate? " He seemingly dives into the list she gave him, but his features show a devious smile. It's the one that crinkles his nose, the one that always goes with a short crooked glance from under his lashes.

She sighs again.

He waits and watches her.

There it is, that lovely rolling of her eyes. "Just read it and see if it's all right, please, Perry. " With that, she sways out of his office.

Just before she closes the door, he starts reading, only partly conscious of the words, while fully conscious of how the hem of her dress caresses her shins, her calves. A particular area there, on the inside of her knees, is an erogenous zone, he knows that. He knows what happens if the thin skin there is brushed lightly with finger tips. His finger tips.

He swallows.

He starts reading again.

_' Have you had the opportunity during the development of your manhood … '_

He sits up, straightens his back, and shakes his head. He blinks. That's not what it says, is it ? He starts reading again.

_' Have you had the opportunity during the development of your mandatory that her hands capture his bare thighs and linger dangerously close to … ' _

He clears his throat.

_' … were enclosing his … ' _

He snorts.

_' disclosing the argument … '_

He closes his eyes, inhales. " Damn it, Mason."

_' revealing the truth of the matter, and that is that he wants her again now … ' _

He slams the paper down on his desk, and sighs deeply, holding his head in his hands.

_The truth of the matter_ is indeed that he wants her again now, plain and simple, and has been succesful in ignoring this for a couple of days, but is now obviously incapable of concentrating properly as well. He runs his fingers through his hair, and thinks of the rest of the day, the rest of the week, amazing himself. Never, never in his lawful and unlawful life, has he felt the need to have no more work done for the rest of the day, the rest of the week, the rest of the month.

They agreed on this air of formality in and around the office, for the sake of professionalism, adept contacts with vulnerable clients, and the succesful future of a starting law firm. No touching, no kissing, no lustful glances, just work. But it's as if the negation isn't there. Gradually, memories foist themselves on his awareness, images appear in his mind, urges manifest, and the desire to relive what happened are more and more in the foreground.

He shifts to the first page of the introductory paragraphs of the case at hand, abandoning the deposition questions, and starts reading again.

_' … two strong fingers … ' _

He snorts.

_' … too strong allegations are made. Unfounded accusations, according to defense counsel, as none of them were presented with enough non-arbitrary and conclusive evidence to watch her, to see her so very close to releasing for the very first time underneath him, her eyes squeezed together, her throat emitting the softest and most delicate sounds for him __only, and he shifts to another position … ' _

" Good grief, Mason, for Pete's sake … " He whispers.

He fumbles to remove a cigarette from a crumpled package, and searches himself to find his lighter. On their course over his tested and tried torso his hands come across irrefutable evidence that the subject of his preoccupied mind has affected him more than he'll ever admit to anyone. He stands up from his chair, uncomfortably.

The lighter is in his suit pants pocket, along with his keys. He lights the cigarette on his way to the terrace, a perfect place to cool off and find control.

After all, it's only Thursday. Afternoon.

Though the railing of the terrace feels soothingly cool on his hands, the view isn't nearly as calming as he'd expected it to be. He laughs at himself, blowing out smoke.

He hears the door to the terrace open and close again. Her closeness makes the thin air tingle.

" Perry ? "

" Della. " He inhales deeply and gazes down at his shoes. It's best if he doesn't turn. It's best not to see her right now. Maybe it's even better not to hear her right now.

" Your three o'clock just cancelled. "

" My three o'clock … " He frowns.

" Mr. Montgomery. "

" Yes, Mr. Montgomery. " He knows. He's distracted, but he's not completely forgotten he's a working man.

" He cancelled because his father died this morning. "

" Oh, that's awful. Send him our condolences. "

" I already have. " The tilt of her head and the little bow she makes go unnoticed.

" Next appointment ? " He extinguishes his cigarette.

" Half past four. "

He nods, holds the railing, sighs. He listens if he can hear the door open, if he can hear her leave. He can't.

He turns.

And then she turns too, her hand on the door handle.

He's drawn to her automatically by the force of attraction, gravity working horizontally, and walks towards her without noticing, sees her swallow. In a natural flow, she dances around him, avoiding the warmth that radiates from him, and she reaches out for the railing of the terrace.

He thinks he grins only on the inside but, by her reaction, understands it shows on the outside as well. He tries not to notice how all the buttons of her dress are fastened but the top two, and remembers how he's come to know the skin underneath this fabric curves downwards, the bra probably lace, cupping her breasts in a way he would, very voluntarily.

Firm but gentle.

All day.

" How do you think we're doing ? " He asks her in a way he knows she knows what he means. They have tried to avoid the subject these past few days, but they're not really inside the office now, technically, so he touches it lightly. The subject. He touches the subject lightly.

" I think we're doing a great job, keeping a … formal and decent distance. " She says watching him, slightly amused.

" We are. " He confirms, dares to glance sidewards, ready to meet her eyes, but she's taking in the view of the city of Los Angeles. After all, it's only Thursday and she can simply not have him the way she wants him now.

" It's hard, isn't it? "

_Yes. Hard._

" But it can be done. "

" Yes. " He leans onto the railing on his forearms, and clasps his hands in front of him. " But you know what the problem is? "

" What's the problem, Perry? " She starts to make circular movements on the railing with her index finger. He watches it.

" It's not decency or distance. It's time. "

" Time ? " She crosses her ankles, and lazily leans her head on her hand, elbow on the railing, one finger still circling the cool metal.

" I know how to cross distances, figuratively and literally, I know I can decrease distances whenever I want, in whatever way I want, and it's just a matter of discipline now, that I am not crossing the lines. "

He's merely convincing himself, and it humours her. " Mmmm - mmm. "

" But I can't make time go faster. "

She just watches him.

He continues, low and deep, sonorous, as if he's pleading. " I can't influence time, I can't make it go faster, and it never bothered me, until now. "

" Well, time can simply not go faster. It's a law of physics, isn't it, Perry ? "

" Physics, yes. " He diverts his gaze, snorts, then smiles. They both try to contain themselves, laughter oozing through their postures, both looking the other way.

" We have work to do. " She states.

" Yeah. " He's drawn to the perfect full shape of her bottom lip. She bites it as her hands start to reach out for him. He just stands there, in his typical pose, his hands in his pockets, his feet a few inches apart, leaning forward slightly on the balls of his feet, a slight tilt to his head, his blue blue eyes taking her in completely. This is the man she let in to her apartment last Saturday night, to only have him leave her bed Sunday evening.

" Well, let's go inside now. " She whispers.

" Yes. "

" I have the rest of the papers on my desk, maybe you can … " She gestures, hesitantly.

" Yes. " He dares to follow her inside his office to her desk.

" Della, have you … "

" Oh, I need the … " She pivots gracefully, and ends up just in front of him, looks up into his face and catches her breath, steps backwards to find the closed door behind her back.

She presses both hands against the wooden exit. He's close now, dangerously close, but still able to make no contact, though one hand dangles in the air. She watches his hand.

He inhales.

She closes her eyes.

" It's no use … is it ? " He says it softly, while he drops his hand without touching her, seemingly decisively placing it in his pants pocket.

" No … " She manages to utter, huskily, bends her head forward slightly, so that his lips come to be one inch away from the line where her flawless skin is taken over by her curly hair.

" We can't. " He breathes against her hairline, wills his hands into fists in his pockets, but his left hand slips out, and lightly brushes her hip, cruising upwards along the curving firm line of the slim waist he's studied long and intensely while she slept in between the libidinous interludes of last weekend.

He already knows the texture and expanse of these few inches of skin by heart, recalls what they look like, taste like, feel like, smell like.

He doesn't feel undergarments and suspects he's a wishful thinker, presuming wrong. He presses more firmly. There it is. Definitely lace. White maybe, creamy white, the same colour as the garterbelt he took off in the private quietness of her bed room, and a thousand times in the haunting dreams that lasted and lingered, night and day for four days in a row now.

" It's no use … " He sighs again.

" This is ridiculous, Perry. We should be able to … " She crosses her arms in front of her chest.

He looks down at her more than decently kissable mouth.

" Yes. " He purses his lips and closes his eyes, his one hand again leaning against the door behind her now, the other one still in his pocket.

" I think we should be able to keep ourselves in check until the weekend … " She says, knowing she has to move away from him, soon.

He nods. " I agree. " His mind works overtime, but all senses, all parts of his body, every part, _every part_ yells at him …

Another time, another place.

No, not here, not now.

But the negation isn't there. There. Here.

" Where's Gertie? " He tries to find a way out.

" She had to leave early today. " It's no use.

He grabs her hand, while she reaches out to remove a speck of lint that isn't there from his lapel. The hand is cold, damp. He should chafe it with his own to warm it, but she pulls it back, clasps her hands in front of her, and clears her throat.

" Do you want to go over the questions again, and the other documents … " She tries to find another way out. " Did you find some things I need to correct ? "

" No. "

" Did you read the supplementary documents that were handed in by the plaintiff ? "

" No. "

" You're not listening at all, are you? "

" No. Yes. I am, but … You better ... get the other papers ... "

He can't help it.

She's too close.

He loves her.

He tells himself he just wants to help her out by opening the door behind her, placing his hand on the door handle, pulling at it. But the laws of physics rule here, and she stumbles towards him as he opens the door slowly, closing the distance between them succesfully. The moment he feels her glorious softness against him, his free left hand flies to the small of her back, yanks her against him, and he slants across her mouth, finally tasting the addictive flavor of her tongue, reviving sensually, feeling as a child finally permitted to open his birthday present. He groans while his mouth licks and bites its way down her delicious neck, his hands wander and wonder, he's moaning with the same deep-seated primordial intensity as she is. Her arms fling around his neck, her fingers grab at his hair, as she welcomes and facilitates all his moves. She pushes herself against him, inside him.

" Oh, Della, my baby … " He articulates the words into the fabric that hides her cleavage as he lifts her up and bends down at the same time, turns, almost falls forward but makes it to his desk, and then she feels the back of her thighs touch the edge of the desk, a signal that sends sirening sensations through her, but she brings her legs upwards around his waist, to accomodate him, welcome him as if they are not here, not now. The kiss is hot, out of place and liscenciously spectacular.

Urgency rises.

Amongst other things.

And then awareness strikes.

She pushes against his chest with one hand, holding her other hand on her own chest. " Perry. No, not here; not on the desk. Not here. " Both her heels land on the carpet.

He steps back, tries to control his breathing, but is entirely unable to do so, and laughs despite himself. " I'm sorry. " He inhales, exhales, inhales again and steps back again, adjusts his tie, breathing heavily, his eyes darkened, roving over her until they finally focus on the beauty of her flushed face.

He reads the shock in her eyes, and notices to his own unexpected mirth that her enticing yet fully covered chest heaves in the same rhythm as his. " My … it's bad, Perry. "

" It is. "

" We're not going to make it, are we ? "

" We have to. "

The fingers of his left hand run through his hair, he closes his eyes momentarily and makes a decision. Saying it very softly, he hopes the tremble won't be audible. " Get my car, Della. "

" Your car … " She pants, does it elegantly, but she can't think clearly. Is he suggesting what she thinks he's suggesting? A warmth she's been ignoring for the past four days starts glowing through her until it sparkles and tickles body parts that are very well covered during working hours for very good reasons.

" Yes, my car, Della. "

She ignores the suggestion. " Are you leaving ? You have to be back here … "

" … no, Della … " He interrupts her " … _**we**_ are leaving. "

" But, Perry, the next appointment is at half past four. "

" We can be back here in time. "

" Can we? "

" We can. " He presents it as the indisputable truth.

She gasps, then chuckles softly, pursing her lips in the dearest way possible. " I can't believe you're actually … " But he looks at her with those eyes, the warmth is becoming heat, and it won't be long before it will transform unsolidly into liquid. Time will start to vanish shortly, maybe place will too.

She shakes her head, as if to rid herself of sensations running through her now that she's becoming aware of how weak she is for him, memories of the past weekend seeping through her carefully emotionally closed, business minded brain. But she dwells on how incredibly handsome he is, how excruciatingly attractive, and drifts back in time to reminisce how strong and sensual he was, for the first time in her bed room, next to her, on top of her, beneath her, behind her.

She knows she has to stop this.

And that it **is** no use to even try. Considering time and place, this might be a law of physics too.

" Get my car. " He's relentless in a very enticingly dangerous manner.

" Are your keys on the desk? " She whispers. Consciously placing one delicate foot in front of the other, she slowly and carefully walks around him and starts searching.

" They're in my … " he exhales " … my pocket. "

" Uh. " Now she slowly reaches out, pointing at him with one index finger at first, then two. Languidly slowly she trails down his shirt with both fingers placed next to each other. She watches her own movements, very vividly remembering that right here underneath the stiff white fabric, there's this fascinating feature of just enough, not too much, but just enough oh so masculine hair running in a line from his navel down to a vigorous area that pleased and surprised her in more than one way.

" Which pocket? " Her fingers stop their tease at the waistband of his trousers, and then linger to the side, one to the left, one to the right. " Left or right ? "

His lips part, he closes his eyes and swallows. The sharp intake of breath makes her smile deviously.

" Ah. Here they are. " She pulls the keys out of his left pocket, slowly, the tremor it causes making her smile more deviously.

" Della … "

" What ? "

" You're … bad. "

" _I'm_ bad? You're the one suggesting we're leaving here to … uh … be out of the office for just an hour. "

" I'm sorry. "

" Are you ? "

" I'm sorry we'll have to skip dinner and dancing this time … "

She's unable to look anywhere else than into blue, deeply desiring, heavy lidded eyes, and she whispers. " I suppose we can … we can do without the dinner and dancing part. "

" Oh, we can, Della. Get my car. " He shakes his head, disbelieving his own urgency.

" We have to get out of here. "

" Where are we going? "

" Your place. "

" My apartment. "

" Yes. It's closest. "

This is exactly what he meant by influencing distance, and time, and it hits him, hard and fast, everywhere.

" Well, aren't you coming? " She asks him, all the while holding the keys to his car, his heart, his future, soundly in the palm of her hands.

" Not yet … " He smirks so indisputably widely and desirous, she almost misses he's biting his lower lip, but she doesn't miss it and holds onto the doorframe of the office's exit door. Her legs start to refuse duty. His next words drift towards her, and merely reach her through sensations instead of sound waves. " I'll be out there with you, in five minutes, Della. "

" All right. " It's barely audible. And then she turns. " Mr. Mason … "

" Miss Street … ? "

" One more thing … "

" Yes … "

" You'll have to sit in the back of the car … "

" … oh ? "

" … I'm driving. "

With that she closes the office door, and he inhales deeply, the palm of his hand sweating against his forehead.

_" You'll have to sit in the back of the car. " _

" Get a grip, Mason _…_ " Is he saying it out loud?

In a blur, he walks out of the office, and realizes he can't lock the office doors, because she took his keys with her.

He can't be bothered, but knows he's acting irresponsibly, and takes a minute to think of a solution.

There's a spare key at the receptionist's desk on the ground floor.

The ride down in the elevator is unusually slow. It's inconvenient. He's in a hurry.

He orders the receptionist to lock his office because he suddenly has to leave, and misses the smirk on the guard's face.

He's too preoccupied. The car is already stationed at the entrance of the office building, and he slips into the back seat without even glancing at her.

She doesn't look at him through the rear view mirror, just pays attention to the road.

The silence speaks for itself.

All kinds of thoughts whirl through him, and when they reach the front of the apartment building where they are finally going to find their needed privacy, not to mention her bed, his heart beats out of his chest. He takes another decision. " Stop here. "

" What ? " She startles.

" Stop here, Della. "

She stops the car next to the curb, and watches him climb out of the car with minimum effort. Keeping his eyes on the traffic, he walks around his car, halting at the driver's side.

" What are you doing, Perry? " She chuckles.

He leans down through the open car window and cadges for an illegal short kiss that lengthens and makes them both moan.

" I'm going to walk around the block a couple of times. "

" You're going for a walk ? "

" I need … I need some fresh air … " … _or I won't even make it inside …_

" Ah. " She looks through the front window, nods. " I never knew it could be this bad, Perry. " Her eyes are wistful, loving. He realizes she's never looked at him in any other way. He realizes her desire has always come from the heart.

He realizes she loves him too. She's here, now.

He almost falls forward into hazel depths.

" I've never experienced this before, Della. "_ I love you and I need you and I want you, in that specific order, every minute of every day. For always from yesterday until beyond forever. _

" Neither have I. " _Ditto. _

" I never left my office, for just an hour to … "

" To what … ? "

" To make scandalous love … "

" Is that what you're going to do to me? "

" Della, please. " He moans. " If I have to _tell you_ what I'm going to do to you, I don't have to do it anymore … "

" Oh … " Did he just say what he just said ? Does it mean what she thinks he means?

She watches how his large forceful hands tighten their grip on the edge of the car window, and he swallows, before he looks away from her shortly and falls back into her eyes deeply, his mind already doing what he's going to do, and very soon.

She liquifies.

He walks away.

All cliches are true now, the heat spreading from deep within diffuse through her, her temperature rises, the palpating rhythm of this anticipating moment being incredibly consuming. No, he can't make time go faster, but he does have the ability to manipulate it by using distance. The fact that he takes a walk right now, says it all.

_' If I have to tell you what I'm going to do to you, I don't have to do it anymore … ' _

Her hands are shaking, her keys are jangling against the keyhole of her front door as she tries to push the right key in it. She pants in advance, as she leans her forehead to the cool wooden door, smiles.

_Get a grip, Della Street … _

She walks through her apartment, into her bedroom, opens the door to her balcony, and steps into the bright daylight displayed by the Calfornia sky. The breeze soothes her, calms her down a little. She wonders what to do next.

She doesn't have to think for long.

There he is, in the small alley behind her apartment building. He probably expected her to come out here, on her balcony, and has been waiting there, in the alley. She tilts her head. He tilts his, and his eyes love her, beam at her. He's too far away so she can't hear the words, but sees how he says them, how his lips form them, and knows it's true.

She leans onto the railing of the balcony, watching him shamelessly, as he simply parades towards her, is not for a second taking his eyes off of her, roving up and down over her in a way that tingles through her. As if his eyes do touch her, and cause the severe shock waves, that hint at a covetousness she'll soon learn to be close to dangerous.

_'Hi'._ She mouths it to him, but now he just scrutinizes her surroundings, looks around.

Is he up to what she thinks he's up to?

" Do you think I can come up from here ? " He asks her, looking up.

" It's not what a fire escape is meant for, is it? "

" It's meant for emergencies … " He is indeed checking out the fire stairs, counting the steps, and estimating the distance between the stairs and her balcony. " I'd say this is an emergency. "

" What ? "

She tries not to laugh out loud, when he indeed does the unthinkable, flying up the fire escape stairs, taking two steps at a time. In one lithe movement of his larger than life frame, he swings his legs over the steel lattice, and lands in front of her on his two feet.

He exhales audibly.

" Impressive. "

" Thank you. "

" You didn't walk around the block a few times, did you ? " Her voice is soft.

" No. " He reaches out for her hand, and she offers it elegantly, listening to what he's saying. " I thought it best if I got to you the first time around. "

" Maybe I should sent you back to finish your walk first… " Her eyes are dancing, straying over him restlessly, taking in every single detail of his attracting posture, to savour this moment, to stretch it. Maybe she can influence time this way.

" Maybe you should. "

" All thirty-four steps back down. " She's been counting.

" Seventeen. " He's been counting too, taking two steps at the time. Decreasing distance, and time. To hell with physics.

" Uh. " She nods, slowly. " Do you think you can do it again? "

" I think I can. " His smiling eyes are already undressing her.

" Maybe I wouldn't want you to. " She fingers his tie, then tugs at it, walks backwards slowly, elegantly avoiding the doorstep, into her bedroom.

She laughs at him, feasts on him with her eyes, the taste of him, all of him, already in her smiling mouth. He feels it, tastes her too.

He uses his broadness to urge her to walk further into the room, breathing laboriously, closing the curtain behind him with one quick impossible movement of his right arm while the left reaches out for her waist. The magnetic force can finally reveal itself, overpower them, now, here in this secluded place, since time is not the issue anymore. The number of times is.

" Della … " He halts. " I love you … "

She emits an undefinable sound, and he interprets it as a request, a confirmation and an invitation at the same time. His open mouth trails her cheek, downwards, indulgently nipping and sucking her glorious soft skin, her neck, and she pushes herself against him. He groans, his hands frustrated, unable to touch every inch he wants to feel at the same time " … oh, my baby … I love you … "

" I love you …"

" I need you … "

" I love you … "

" I want you … " In that specific order.

" Have me … " She electrifies him.

" I love you … " He says it, just before their mouths fuse.

Somewhere, in the back of her mind, a small voice tells her she has to close the sliding door to the balcony.

But she can't close that distance anymore now that the most important distance is already closed.

_**- TBC -**_


End file.
